


Better than Ice Cream

by yummy_dante (Miarra)



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Dante (Devil May Cry), First Time, Fluff and Smut, Incest, M/M, PWP, Post-Devil May Cry 5, Top Vergil (Devil May Cry), Twincest, Vergil is bad at romance, but Dante is not very picky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24424246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miarra/pseuds/yummy_dante
Summary: Everything is better with strawberries.
Relationships: Dante/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 110





	Better than Ice Cream

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to wonderful BlueThorne for beta-reading this.

If Vergil had asked himself not so long ago which task would consume him after the Qliphoth endeavor, the last thing on his mind would have been romancing Dante. Yet here he was — at Dante’s desk with a bouquet of white roses, a basket of strawberries and a bottle of champagne, which Dante probably didn’t even like. Vergil had never seen him drinking it, but that didn’t mean much since he had been observing Dante in the human world for about a week, and champagne was for special occasions.

The more he contemplated his offering, the more tasteless it looked to him. Well, maybe the idea was less than stellar. He considered pouring the liquid down the drain, giving the roses to some bypasser on the street and eating strawberries all by himself before it was too late, but of course, at that exact moment, Dante stormed into the shop, loud and smiling. He smelled like demon intestines. 

“Hey, Vergil…” He stopped at the sight of the extravagance on his desk. “Who sent those?” 

That was the moment Vergil could have lied — or just kept his silence. Dante would’ve thought some anonymous client expressed his gratitude, Vergil would’ve found out if his brother enjoyed fancy alcohol, and they would’ve forgotten about the incident by tomorrow. 

“I did,” he said instead. 

For a moment, Dante looked stupid, as if he was struggling to comprehend this explicitly stated fact. Then he beamed. 

“Is that for me…? For us? So you are...” He beelined to the table and stopped in front of it, looking baffled again. “So that time wasn’t..."

Of course he had to mention  _ that time _ .

Vergil had no wish to discuss it or make any excuses, but obviously he had to make some statement. He had a naive hope that a standard courtship gesture would be enough, but Dante wouldn’t let him off so easy.

“ _ That time _ was neither an accident nor joke nor provocation,” he said levelly. 

He didn’t say what it actually was, that time in the demon world when they kissed, briefly and awkwardly. Maybe Dante already knew that better than him anyway. 

Vergil thought Dante would go for the bottle first, or maybe for the strawberries, but he leaned over the roses, touching them lightly, smelling and examining them as curiously as if he’d never seen such flowers before. Vergil was slightly annoyed — they were just a boring cliche. Well, the right type of boring cliche for Dante, as it seemed.

“They are beautiful,” Dante said.

“You stink,” said Vergil.

So much for the romance. 

Dante just laughed and went to the shower, leaving Vergil to steam a bit more in front of his foolish exposition. He sank into the chair and met his mother’s eyes. It was probably not the best moment to admire the likeness of the portrait, so he slammed it into the drawer where Dante kept all kinds of garbage, even a dirty old glove for some reason. 

Sorry, Mother. 

She probably wouldn’t have approved, but she wouldn’t have approved of lots of things about Vergil. His romantic advances towards his brother were not even at the top of the list.

So, he’d made the first step, and Dante didn’t tell him to go screw himself. That meant it could move somewhere beyond the flowers stage. That would be a good thing, if only he had the slightest idea about his next course of action. He hated not having a plan, but in this case, making a plan seemed even more repugnant than not having one.

He still hadn’t come up with any decent scheme when Dante reappeared, still wet and pink from the hot water and wearing nothing but a tiny towel on his hips. 

Vergil gulped.

“Glad you haven’t finished my champagne yet.” Dante jumped on the edge of the desk and crossed his legs. How did that towel even hold in place? “But you can open it any time now.”

Vergil fiddled with the bottle absentmindedly, and only after the loud pop and Dante's enthusiastic “Yay!” did he realize that he hadn't prepared any glasses. He stood up to check the bar into the corner, but Dante took the bottle out of his hand and took a big sip, spilling foaming liquid generously onto his chest and stomach. 

Well, maybe they wouldn’t need any glasses after all. 

“Want some?” Dante held out the bottle. “It’s good.”

Vergil reached with his hand, picked up some droplets from Dante’s chest and licked his finger.

“It’s nice,” he agreed contemplatively.

“Wanna take a better taste?” Dante put the bottle aside without a second glance and straightened up, squaring his shoulders. His muscles flexed smoothly under his skin, droplets running down from chest to stomach, from stomach under that hellish towel. 

Well, that escalated quickly. And Vergil was kind of relieved for it while he leaned over the desk, ducked his head and licked Dante’s skin over his heart. His brother may have looked cool and nonchalant, sitting half-naked on his desk, but Vergil could feel his frantic heart beating. It was better like this, without unnecessary talking, any more stupid gestures or ridiculous flirting. What was he even supposed to do? Compliment his brother? He would have been at a desperate disadvantage in that field. No way, he’d rather devour him wordlessly, admire his impeccable beauty and pristine power, make him submit…

“Easy, tiger,” Dante said, and that was exactly why Vergil preferred him silent.

He was smirking — Vergil could see that it was a bluff, but he pulls away from Dante and sits back in the chair with his arms crossed over his chest. He raised an eyebrow, keeping eye contact and waiting for his brother’s next move. 

“Shouldn't we talk about this first?” 

So his impatient, reckless brother chose to be levelheaded for once in his life at this particular circumstance. Couldn’t he cease to annoy Vergil at least for a day? For a couple of hours? 

Well, it shouldn’t have been difficult to taunt Dante out of this unnecessary talk. 

“You are not chickening out, aren’t you?” he asked with a well-practiced sneer.

“Me? You wish!” Dante looked offended. 

“Oh no, not at all.”

Vergil stood up slowly. With his hair wet, Dante couldn’t cover his eyes under his bangs, so it was easy to captivate his gaze.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

He put his hand on Dante’s neck — possessively, he hoped, but it faltered when he felt the warmth and unexpected softness.

Dante swallowed, and Vergil could swear that he leaned into the touch. It was too early to congratulate himself though — not with Dante, not on such an uncertain terrain. To further his advantage, Vergil kissed him, and Dante opened his lips instantly. It wasn’t some unsteady thing like that time in the underworld. It was deep and sensual and  _ good _ , oh, so good, and Vergil didn’t even have time to be proud of himself before it consumed him completely. His fingers tightened on Dante’s neck, but he wasn’t yet far gone enough to hurt him.

“You don’t want to break this,” he thought. “You don’t want to fail this.”

Dante’s eyes were closed during the kiss, and he was very still, but his tongue and mouth were getting more and more insistent. He was hungry for this — maybe not as hungry as Vergil, but he was desperate and demanding. Vergil wanted more too, but he wasn’t going to rush it. He needed to be in control. At least one of them had to be. His hand slid to Dante’s back. Another fell onto Dante’s chest, brushing over his nipples. It made Dante shudder, and something inside of Vergil growled. He wanted Dante trembling under his hands. He wanted Dante to fall apart. And Dante, for once, gave him what he wanted. 

After few more minutes of kisses and touches and shivers, Dante eased himself away and jumped over the desk, taking care not to knock anything down, but losing his flippant towel on the way. While Vergil was getting over the shock of having Dante completely naked in his hands, Dante started to get rid of his brother’s clothes.

“Why can’t you wear some t-shirt like a normal person?” he moaned after the third snap. 

They were hard to undo, but not that hard, so Vergil just ripped the last one and tugged down the zipper on his undershirt. 

“That’s better,” murmured Dante while helping him to get rid of both garments.

Vergil shivered. It suddenly felt ill-advised, to be that vulnerable in front of his strongest opponent. But then he reminded himself that Dante was butt naked in front of his strongest opponent and didn’t seem to be bothered by that in the slightest bit.

He loathed to be  outdone by his brother in any way, but he still wasn’t ready to take his pants down under the curious gaze, approving as it was. While he was trying to avoid it by turning Dante around and bending him over the table, Dante gasped and tensed. The muscles on his back were sculptured and hard as rocks under Vergil’s hands. That should have driven Vergil over the edge, but he froze. Was it the wrong move? Were they too early in the process for such a stunt? But Dante arched his back and grabbed the desk edge with both hands. When he half-turned his face, he was smiling, so it seemed he had no objections. He was quite eager, actually.

It was Vergil who was lingering now, keeping his hands on Dante’s back, sliding them down to his hips. He’d never done this before, not with another man. As for his intercourse with a woman... To be honest, he hadn’t had much agency at that time, so that experience wouldn’t be helpful either. Well, he had read up on it. He wanted to be prepared just in case… When there is a chance you're gonna have sex with your brother, you have to know how to do it properly.

His hand slid between Dante’s buttocks, and he blushed, feeling silky wetness down there. So, Dante had been preparing too, and not just in theory.

Vergil couldn’t deny that it turned him on, but he was somewhat surprised. In his imagination, which had been busy in the last couple of weeks, he’d always pictured them fighting over the positions. He didn’t expect Dante to submit easily, but now, when there was no pushback at all, he was not disappointed in the slightest. 

His desires conquered his hesitation, and he slipped his finger in impatiently. He wasn’t afraid to inflict pain, considering their pain thresholds, nor did he bother with the hygiene — he’d cut Dante open with his sword and occasionally with his claws often enough to become well-acquainted with his insides. But he wanted Dante to like it, so he tried not to rush, tried to be slow and patient and wait for the reaction… which turned out to be quite rewarding when Dante whimpered, raising on his tiptoes to get his ass up.

It was a strange feeling to pleasure Dante like this, to see his enjoyment, so honest and unrestricted. It riled Vergil up in some new, unexpected way. His hand reached for his cock, and it felt better than ever until it occurred to him that he should probably touch Dante’s instead of his own. 

Vergil was aggravated by the loss of his own fingers, but not for long; the weight and heat of Dante’s cock in his palm felt rather nice when his twin pushed himself up over the desk on his hands, throwing his head back. He breathed heavily while Vergil was trying to find a rhythm with both hands, but still came up with, “That’s all you’ve got?”

It wasn’t the most convincing taunt with his ass clenching and his dick leaking, but Vergil was as eager as ever to be provoked. His cock was considerably bigger than his fingers, and the hole was small and tight, but it was unlikely Dante would shy away from it right then, so Vergil forced it in. Dante moaned again with a sound not unlike those he made in battle, and this time Vergil joined him, almost surprising himself with his own groan.

“Does it hurt?” he asked while he could, holding onto the dregs of his self-control.

“Yes,” Dante said abruptly, and, before Vergil could freeze, “Don’t stop.” 

Taking Dante’s hips in both hands, Vergil made himself steady and slid in fully. Both of them were breathing out simultaneously, Dante bowing his head. Vergil leaned over him and nipped him in the place where his shoulder began.

“Yes,” Dante gasped again, and Vergil indulged him by kissing and biting his neck. He should have started moving, probably, at least Dante seemed to think so, shoving his ass back in the scarce room he had between his desk and his brother. Vergil was not going to deny him (this time), so he started to rocks his hips tentatively to Dante’s obvious delight. 

He knew it was supposed to feel good, for him and, apparently, for his partner, but he wasn’t ready for sensations so euphoric or for a response that passionate. The reality of what was happening started to sink in; not only had he developed romantic feelings for his brother, but these feelings seem to be mutual and resulted, quite abruptly, in them having sex at Dante’s desk. Such a milestone it was in his return to the world of the living, if not to sanity.

He didn’t rush it yet, moving in the tight passage at his leisure. He wanted to enjoy this moment as fully as possible, but Dante, typically, got impatient, and his thrusts were breaking Vergil’s carefully controlled rhythm. Before the idiot managed to produce another awful witticism, Vergil picked a strawberry from the basket and shoved it in Dante’s opened mouth. Dante stopped in his tracks — luckily with Vergil’s cock balls deep inside of him. Then, he tore off the stem with the tug of his teeth, drew the berry inside of his mouth and started chewing slowly. Vergil put his hand to Dante’s chest, searching for his nipples, and considered the moment to be a perfect time to increase the tempo. 

“I’ve been dead-sure strawberries are best to have with ice cream.” Dante was evidently struggling with words, which meant Vergil was doing a good job. “Who’d have thought they are so much better  _ with you _ ?” ...but he was still able to talk, so there was something to strive for.

When Vergil pushed him on the desk to get to work in earnest, Dante went down pliantly with no further comments. It didn’t take much time to turn him into a moaning mess, but it was hard to be smug about it when Vergil himself was barely able to see straight.

He had just enough wits left in him to grab Dante’s dick again because nobody would dare say he didn’t care about his little brother. Dante thrust into his palm frantically, impaling himself on Vergil’s cock with the same movements, and before long they found a perfect sync, the ideal pattern of their mutual pleasure. It was enormous and overwhelming — all the sounds and sensations, the smell of their sweat and the taste of Dante’s hot skin when Vergil bit him to find some outlet for the tsunami of his feelings. 

And it happened — Vergil lost it completely. He let go of his self-control and his pride and his doubts, and dissolved in his brother's body, in that pure, all-absorbing bliss it granted him. “Dante...” he heard himself saying as if from far away, and with that single name he fell onto his brother’s back, pinning him to the desk surface, still feeling the hot walls clenching around his cock. 

Judging from the wetness under his hand, his brother had found his release too, and that was where it gets awkward. 

“That’s… strange,” Vergil said, straightening up. His cock slipped out of Dante, and he stood over him, looking at the prostrated figure with teeth marks fading at the shoulder. 

“What’s strange?” Dante asked. His voice was hoarse but steady. A trickle of cum was leaking out of his ass.

What wasn’t strange about this? What wasn’t strange about all of Vergil’s life?

“It’s supposed to be wrong, but it doesn’t feel as such.”

It was probably not the best moment to talk about it, if any moment ever would be good for it. But Dante sounded nonchalant when he answered. “Killing each other was wrong. This… This is just nice.”

Trust Dante to oversimplify a complicated matter. He made everything easy; maybe that was his true demonic power. And the greedy brat took all of it for himself when they were born.

“It definitely wasn't _ just _ nice,” Vergil murmured, and Dante laughed, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Yeah, maybe I should have said mind-boggling... Wait, where is Mom?” he asked with sudden worry in his voice. 

Vergil took a step back, zipping up his fly. 

“Oh, that. I put her in the drawer.” 

Dante turned around, sitting on the desk — he wasn’t afraid to get it dirty, obviously. Vergil picked up his clothes from the floor, not sure if he had to get them back on then or just go to the shower, preferably before Dante occupied it again.

“Hey, don’t touch my things without asking!” Dante sounded more embarrassed than offended. 

Vergil raised his hand to smooth down his hair but thought better about it. Neither of his hands was exactly clean then.

“It may be easy for you to forget, but she’s my mother too.”

And she could do without witnessing her sons copulating on the desk. That was for sure.

Dante probably came to the same conclusion. He huffed, looked over the desk again, grabbed the bottle and drank the champagne in big gulps like it was water. 

Vergil winced. 

“You know,” Dante said, inspecting the bottle in his hand, “we could have used this too.”

Vergil wasn’t willing to understand what that was supposed to mean.

“Maybe next time.” Dante put it down and took another strawberry instead. 

“So there’s going to be next time?” Vergil asked. He probably wasn’t as good at hiding his enthusiasm as he wished to be. 

“How about now?” Dante stretched in all his naked glory. 

Vergil just hoped the bottle would have nothing to do with that.


End file.
